


The Great Escape: West Side: Near the Item Shop

by moody_trans_detective



Series: Rogueass Galaxy [24]
Category: Rogue Galaxy
Genre: Belting, Bondage, Humiliation, M/M, Sex Work, kinkshark, shark man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective
Summary: Simon seeks out punishment for being the worst.
Relationships: Simon Wicard/Delphos (Rogue Galaxy)
Series: Rogueass Galaxy [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956043
Kudos: 1





	The Great Escape: West Side: Near the Item Shop

Simon couldn’t unsee it. Since he’d last been in this area of Zerard, there was a new shop owner, and he was a looker. Simon could tell at a glance Delphos was just the sort to sell more than potions and hard candy, and he was seriously considering the more at this point. His meandering mind about Miyoko had him moody and guilty and up for a punishment. And while the Desert Claw might be available—rumor ‘round the Dorgenark was he was loose—he was far too young for someone Simon’s age.

“Is there someplace to obtain weapons around here?” asked Lilika. Practical. Simon found her to be very practical. Not a bad quality for someone in a party with them, really. Zerard was civilized, but you never knew what you might run into.

“Should be a shop down the street from ‘ere,” he said.

“Let’s go,” said Jaster, ever the eager one.

Simon hung back.

“Well, I…er, I’d like to have a look around ‘ere a bit longer. You two go on ahead. Maybe ye’ll enjoy the time together.” He winked.

“Not likely,” said Lilika. She seemed repulsed by the suggestion. Jaster just looked awkward. Well, Simon wasn’t going to force them to be a couple.

“Weapons sound good,” said Jaster. “C’mon.”

Lilika went with him despite her revulsion, leaving Simon in Delphos’ shop along with one other person. He waited, examining the metal grate cage in the back, observing the shark man out of the corner of his eye. Delphos was average in size, with a nose ring Simon was sure he understood to mean he was from a particular clan. A clan that meant Delphos could help him with a problem. After thinking so much about Miyoko, after spending months on a ship with a robot for a roommate, Simon had embarrassing needs, and he wanted to be appropriately punished when he saw to them. And if he paid for it…it wasn’t really cheating. Just a transaction.

It took forever for the other customer to leave, but when he did, Simon sidled over to Delphos.

The shark man leered at him. It was as if he knew.

“You been standing in my shop a precious long time, stranger,” said Delphos. “Is there _something_ I can help you with?”

“That depends,” said Simon, and cast a glance toward the door. “Are ye from the Clan ‘f the Kinkshark, by any chance?”

Delphos’ mouth grew wider, toothier.

“Ah, I like men like you,” he said.

Simon swallowed, not that the shark man could see. Mask and all.

“Do ye?”

“Yeah. You’re game—” here Delphos flashed a particularly large tooth, “—and you pay. Both make what I do more enjoyable.”

“So then…”

“Yeah. Yeah, stranger. I’m Kinkshark Clan. You wanna pay for some service? Look at a menu?

“You—you have a menu?” asked Simon, forgetting his new accent for a moment.

Delphos pulled out a few laminated pieces of paper. Simon turned red perusing them, thankfully an unnoticeable change due to the mask, overwhelmed with the options, the increasing level of kink as his eyes traveled farther down the page.

“See what you’re hoping for? ‘Cause if not, I’m open to custom orders.”

“Erm,” said Simon.

“Never done this before, eh?”

“Not—not like this,” said Simon. Not ever, really.

“Let me make a suggestion.” Delphos leaned on the counter. “I close up shop, gone fishin’, whatever. You an’ me head down to the basement, I give you a little taste. You tell me what you want from there.”

“An’ how much does that cost?”

“Depends what you ask for. But I discount newbs.”

Simon tossed the menu back down on the counter.

“It’s worth a shot,” he said.

“You a difficult customer?” asked Delphos as he crossed to turn the sign in the window and lock the door.

“What d’ye mean?”

“Some people have difficulty achieving orgasm, or keeping it hard, or—”

“Er, not exactly. I mean…Not until recently.”

“Gotcha. Let’s see what we can do for you. Down to my dungeon.”

Delphos prodded him and Simon moved. The steps were metal grate, and the lighting down here was red. Simon could feel the kinkshark’s eyes on the back of his helmet, imagined the cocky, toothy grin, and wondered for a moment if he was about to be slaughtered in a basement on his home planet. But the bottom of the stairs opened up to a huge room full of all manner of devices of sexual torture. He stopped and swallowed.

“Do you prefer being serviced, doing the servicing, something else?” asked Delphos.

“I thought ye were givin’ me a little taste. I want whate’er that is.” Simon tried to make the words sound confident. He was very out of his depth here and would accept anything.

“Aight.” Delphos rolled up his sleeves and unzipped Simon’s spacesuit.

“Whoa!”

“If you prefer to be clothed…”

“I prefer the mask stay on. An’…I wanna be punished. I’m scum o’the earth. I deserve whate’er you wanna give me.”

“That so,” said Delphos. He sounded serious. “Drop your pants.”

Simon’s spacesuit already lay on the floor, but he did as Delphos said and dropped his pants too, so that he was naked except for the helmet, which he would not remove.

The kinkshark circled him, looking all the more sinister in the red light. Simon shifted back and forth on his feet, disliking the scrutiny. His body was short and lumpy, his prick was limp and uninspiring. The only thing of any worth had been his nose, and now…The mask stayed on.

“You’re nervous,” said Delphos. “Is it because you fear I’ll make you confess? Or do you doubt my enthusiasm?”

Simon hesitated, but Delphos grabbed his hand, shoved it down Delphos’ pants. The kinkshark’s skin was rough and scratchy, but he was already hard and very long. The skin of his shaft wasn’t as sandpapery as the rest of him.

“I am _very_ excited to punish you,” said Delphos. “And I’m very glad you came to me.”

He released Simon’s hand, but Simon felt the kinkshark up a moment more while Delphos grunted in satisfaction. Somehow this seemed a little less of a problem, of a betrayal, with Delphos being a man. Simon couldn’t imagine being with any woman other than Miyoko now. It didn’t matter that Simon also wasn’t as fond of men—that made the entire thing more of a punishment.

“Ye don’ even know who I am,” said Simon as he pulled his hand away.

“Do you want me to know your name, scum?” asked Delphos.

“On second thought…”

Delphos pulled out a set of cuffs and Simon eyed them. The kinkshark grabbed Simon by the arm, twisted his hands behind his back, and cuffed them.

“Er…”

“If you need punishment, you’re guilty, bub. And trust me, I got years of practice getting scum like you to spill shit. Let’s go.”

Delphos grabbed Simon by the arm and marched him over to a space in the middle of the room with chains on the floor. He cuffed one of Simon’s ankles, then pulled his other leg wide and cuffed that one, too. Simon teetered, nearly fell, caught himself. Delphos moved behind him.

“Lean over,” he said.

Simon could hear the kinkshark removing his belt. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this. He twisted his wrists ineffectively in the cuffs. The belt snapped through the air, Delphos not striking him yet.

“I’m waiting.”

“Doesn’t punishment come _after_ the admission?” asked Simon.

“This isn’t the punishment. I’m an artist. Punishments fit the crime. Gotta hear what you did first, and I’m gonna beat it out of you to be sure it’s honest.”

Simon knew he should object now if he was going to. Instead he closed his eyes and did as Delphos ordered. A good belting was just what he deserved, anyway, for being back on Zerard, for seeing them near the fountain and turning away.

The belt cracked through the air, stung Simon’s ass. He yelped, jerked forward at the sudden pain. Delphos struck him again on the other cheek, hard enough to welt, and Simon yelped again.

“You’re weak, scum. Not going to take you long at all to crack, is it?” asked Delphos. He swung the belt again. “I’ve had smaller, whinier men than you with blood running down their legs before they let my belt make them talk.”

“Ah, hell,” said Simon. He let out another cry as the belt snapped across his tender ass.

“That’s four. I’m counting. I want to see if you’ll be the new low score.” Delphos struck both cheeks at once. “Five.”

“What am I supposed to tell you?” asked Simon, accent slipping again.

“You know.” Delphos made the blow harder this time. “Sing your guilt to me. Let me know how to alleviate it. Cry out your woes and end this.”

His next blow sent Simon teetering forward, but he caught himself. The one after that was so hard he toppled forward, landed hard on his knees.

“I thought this might happen.” Delphos moved, pulled up another chain and smaller cuff. This time he threaded it in a link in the floor between Simon’s legs. Simon yelped as the kinkshark grabbed his balls from behind, pulled them downward, and snapped the cuff tightly around the sack above them. The smooth metal was cold and uncomfortably heavy, dragging his balls down toward the floor.

“What’re you—” he began, but Delphos grabbed him by the shoulder, hauled him up again.

“Keep your balance. If you fall too far one direction you’ll rip them off.”

Simon swallowed, unsure if he should object. The belt lashed out again, surprisingly painful on his now-tender ass. He jerked forward, his balls going with him, the heavy metal swinging them, pulling, aching. Simon wasn’t getting very hard, not even halfway. He feared being called to perform.

“Ten,” said Delphos as he belted him again. “I’m impressed. You’ve surpassed my expectations.”

Simon’s eyes were watering and he swallowed back the desire to openly cry. Delphos struck him again; a sob slipped out.

“Come on now. Tell me what you’ve done.” Delphos belted him again, and again a sob slipped out. “I don’t think you want me splitting your ass like a ripe peach.”

The next blow hurt worse than any of the previous. Simon couldn’t take it any longer.

“Stop,” he sobbed, sniffling. His balls swung painfully between his legs, chained to the floor. “I’ll tell ye everything.”

“I’m listening,” said Delphos.

Simon could hear him wrapping the belt around a hand. He told Delphos everything, sobbing out the truth, including recently hurrying past the fountain. When he was finished, Delphos was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time and Simon feared he’d start belting him again. His poor ass couldn’t take the continued brutality.

“You _are_ scum,” said the kinkshark at last. “I’m not even sure I want your zehn.”

“How will ye punish me?” asked Simon, mumbling the question. He felt completely humiliated. Even Delphos thought he was despicable. “Remove my helmet?”

“Hell, no.” Delphos walked around to the front of Simon. His pants were lumpy in the front, and by the size Simon deduced a powerful hardon was going on down there. He reached out and palmed Simon’s crotch, startling him. “Only semi. Pain not your thing?”

Simon hung his head.

“Nothing’s my thing anymore. But I get so wound up still, like a mess o’string, I just never c’n untangle it…”

“I’ll forgive you for not being a poet, but not for the other thing.” Delphos shook his head. “People confess all sorts o’shit to me, but this is…” He took out his cock and began stroking it. It was actually bigger than Simon had guessed, had felt. Much too big. It had grown in girth as well as length, and Simon feared this monstrosity of shark virility was headed his way as punishment. He was too inexperienced to take it, he knew it. He struggled against the cuffs again.

“My ass can’t take that,” he said. “Er, fine specimen that it is…”

“I’m not going to rape you,” said Delphos, showing teeth. “You don’t deserve that kind of pleasure. My cock is for punishing cheaters and the like. Not cowards like you. What you get is degradation. Humiliation. Lack of release. To feel like no one cares for you since you can’t extend care to anyone else.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“Harsher still when you find out I’ve spent years training and can shoot seed like propelled from a blaster, can get it up again in minutes. My volume is impressive, my balls are bigger than yours and I have a redundant second set, fully functional.”

“Er, you’re goin’ t’lose it on me?” asked Simon. That didn’t sound so bad.

“Don’t be relieved. Have you smelled Sleeg seed? Think rotting fish.” Delphos moved closer, yanked on the chain attached to Simon’s balls.

Simon cried out, gasped, pain shooting up the middle of him. He fell to his knees. He thought he maybe wanted to die. Delphos secured the chain so the length was shorter, then stood and pulled Simon to his feet again.

“Oh, please, I’m sorry,” said Simon. He felt tears roll down his scarred face. He balls were stretched too far. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I can’t—I’m sorry!”

“You’re not using them anyway.” Delphos went back to stroking himself. “Why should I spare you pain? You came here for punishment. I’m giving you _exactly_ what you want, bub.”

And Simon knew he was. Kinksharks had a good reputation in the galaxy for knowing what you needed even if you didn’t. If Delphos deemed this punishment, it was what Simon deserved. And maybe accepting a shot to the face would let him move on. So he adjusted his stance to keep the pain shooting through his balls to a minimum and faced his fate.

Delphos stroked his big, hairless dick aggressively, looking down on Simon with his mouth slightly open, exposing his many teeth. He leered at Simon, angled his cock.

“Oh, by the way, it might also sting,” he said, and sprayed Simon’s helmet with come forcefully enough Simon almost lost his balance.

“What the—” Simon couldn’t see past the spray, didn’t know what Delphos was doing. His mask didn’t have a filter and the odor—rotting fish was exactly it—made him gag.

Delphos released a second blast over Simon’s chest, and that one struck so hard it stung. The sticky liquid burned. Simon hadn’t been expecting it. He gasped, feeling the load dribble over his skin, little rivulets of pain sliding down his skin. By the time Delphos shot another impressive amount of seed over him he was sobbing again. His body couldn’t take it. He collapsed to the floor.

“Scum,” said Delphos. “Lie there in it while I see to a few customers. I’ll be back in fifteen to release you.”

When he left, he turned off the lights. Even the severe red glow would have been comfort. Simon lay in the burning come, body shooting pain, and closed his eyes. Fifteen minutes was going to feel like hours.

He hoped he had enough zehn to cover this. The thought had him sobbing again.


End file.
